


Disco Fragments

by AmeKinoko



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Minor Spoilers, Post-Game, there is chara death yeah but it's in a dream don't worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22143949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeKinoko/pseuds/AmeKinoko
Summary: Collection of Disco Elysium scenarios I've written in my spare time. First time writing fanfiction...
Relationships: Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 69





	1. Better Than Cigarettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two detectives kiss on the balcony of a shitty Jamrock apartment.

YOU — It’s been a long and rather trying day. You’ve been working at the same case for what feels like an eternity with no breakthroughs. Even Kim seems stumped.

You sigh and lean back in your chair.

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant stands up abruptly. “I’m going for a smoke,” he says, heading for your balcony.

YOU — “Hold up, I’ll join you.”

…

YOU — It’s cold on the balcony; you instantly wish you were wearing your jacket. The two of you stare out at the Jamrock skyline.

KIM KITSURAGI — Kim finishes his cigarette fairly quickly. He looks into the distance with an expression you can’t quite place.

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] — The stress is affecting him just as much as it is you. He’d *really* like to smoke another. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Trivial: Success] — So would you, party-boy! 

VOLITION [Challenging: Success] — But you know something better.

YOU — I do?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Don’t listen to crown-head. What could be *better* than a nice, fresh cigarette?

VOLITION — You’ll see. Just talk to Kim.

YOU — “I want to smoke another too.”

KIM KITSURAGI — He looks up at you, startled out of his thoughts.

YOU — “But I know something better.”

KIM KITSURAGI — Kim gives you a half-smile. “And what would that be?”

SAVOIR-FAIRE [Challenging: Success] — In one smooth motion, you pull the lieutenant into a kiss.

KIM KITSURAGI — At first, he’s frozen. But then, slowly, he begins to reciprocate.

PERCEPTION [Trivial: Success] — He smells like lemon soap. He tastes like cigarettes.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Easy: Success] — Just the two of you, silhouetted by the yellowish light from your apartment in a sea of darkness. The beauty of it all is wasted on an audience such as Jamrock.

INLAND EMPIRE — Wouldn’t it be nice if this could last forever?

YOU — It’d be better than nice. It’d be perfect. *Please* let this last forever.

INLAND EMPIRE — Yes…

YOU — Sadly, you run out of breath before forever comes.

KIM KITSURAGI — “You were right, Detective”

YOU — “What?”

KIM KITSURAGI — “That *was* better than a cigarette.” He adjusts his glasses. “I also know several... things... that you might consider ‘better than a cigarette,’ if you’re interested.”

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Failure] — Wait…

EMPATHY [Medium: Failure] — Is he trying to…

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Challenging: Success] — IS HE TRYING TO COME ON TO YOU???

YOU — Oh my God, I think he might be.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Khm…” The lieutenant starts to walk back inside. The tips of his ears are turning red. “Just… Just forget about it. We should get back to work on that case, it’s not going to solve itself…”

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] — He’s embarrassed. He’s trying to backpedal.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — DON’T LET HIM. SHOW HIM JUST WHAT A BI-SEXUAL CAN DO.

YOU — “No, Kim, wait.”  
KIM KITSURAGI — He stops.

YOU — “I’m interested in these ‘things’ you know. *Very* interested.”

KIM KITSURAGI — He turns back towards you.

PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] — In the dim light, you just barely see a smile start to spread across his face.

KIM KITSURAGI — Kim gives you a “follow me” gesture and re-enters your apartment.

YOU — You follow him, closing the door behind you.

…

You silently hope that Jean won’t chew you out too badly tomorrow. You know you won’t be making *any* progress on this case tonight, after all.


	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry still has nightmares, but he's not alone when he wakes up anymore.

The nightmares don’t come as frequently after Kim moves in with him. Something about falling asleep next to another person seems to calm Harry Du Bois’ fractured mind, and now most nights (thankfully), he doesn’t remember his dreams at all. 

But they haven’t vanished entirely, and when they do come, they’re worse. 

Because his nightmares aren’t about Her anymore.

They’re about Kim.

...

He’s back at the tribunal. Every single detail, just like he remembers it. A bullet in his chest and another in his leg, twin fiery agonies threatening to burn away his entire existence. Kim kneeling next to him, hands on his chest, frantically trying to keep him awake. And the mercenary in shimmering white, pointing a gun at Kim’s head.

But this time, Harry can’t warn him. Something is stopping his voice; he can’t talk and he can’t move and he can’t close his eyes. He watches in horror as the killer smirks, says something he can’t hear, and— 

Harry can’t really remember, but at some point in his eighteen years with the RCM, he must have seen someone get shot in the head at point-blank range. This is because, as he watches a red gore-flower explode out of where Kim’s right eye used to be, as he feels the blood splatter his face, as he watches his partner’s body fall in slow motion, everything feels completely, undoubtedly, REAL.

Kim’s body collapses on top of him, twitching. The voices in Harry’s head reach a fever pitch, incomprehensible nightmare whispering. He still can’t move. All he can do is cry, silently cry for poor Kim. The only person in this shit-fucked world who would deign to love you, one of the voices hisses. Harry just lies there. Tears are running down his cheeks into his beard and Kim’s body is slowly growing cold and now someone’s shaking him and calling his name…

…

Harry wakes up to find that the tears, at least, were real. In fact, he’s still crying. But thank god, that’s all. Kim is next to him, warm and very much alive, with concern in his eyes. He must have been the one doing the shaking and name-calling.

Harry doesn’t say anything, just rolls over and buries his face in Kim’s chest. Kim rubs his back in slow circles. It helps, but Harry still can’t stop crying. He’s soaking Kim’s undershirt with tears (but Kim doesn't seem to mind).

Finally, between the choking sobs, Harry manages to speak. “We were at the tribunal,” he mumbles into Kim’s chest. He doesn’t need to say anything else; this has happened before. Kim simply makes a small noise of acknowledgement and continues rubbing Harry’s back.

Several minutes pass like this. Eventually, Harry stops crying. It’s still the middle of the night, and he feels himself start to drift back into sleep, clinging to Kim like a shipwreck survivor to a life preserver. Afraid of what more sleep will bring, he whispers a plea into the dark room.

“Don’t leave me.”

And just before sleep overtakes him entirely, he hears a reply:

“Never, Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a love affair with pressing "enter" wwwwwww


	3. I Never Thought I'd Be This Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's not the horrible things that break your Composure.

It’s not the truly heroic effort it takes to convince Harry to wear a tux and not the “Party Dragon” robe.

It’s not the throng of friends who are absolutely, genuinely happy for them.

It’s not the slamming combination of Speedfreaks.FM and anodic dance music that seems to drill further into his skull the longer it plays.

It’s not even hearing Garte pronounce them married, or the cheer—that even the tiny hole in the universe can’t totally swallow—when they kiss.

What makes Kim Kitsuragi cry at his wedding is afterwards, when they’re meandering through the crowd-slash-dancefloor and Harry is beaming at him like he’s the only person in the world.

Scratch that, like he *is* the world.

However, if there’s one thing formerly-57th-precinct-now-41st-precinct Lieutenant Kitsuragi prides himself on (besides his car), it’s his Composure. It’s an important skill for a cop. And for anyone who spends an excessive amount of time around Harry Du Bois. Strange things follow that man.

So Kim doesn’t cry. Yet. Just swallows through the tightness in his throat.

But then Harry takes his hand.

Runs his fingers over the ring.

And says, in a tiny voice (that somehow still overflows with unbridled joy):

“Kim, we’re married.”

And that breaks through Kim’s Composure like a bullet. His breath hitches. His eyes start to sting.

A few seconds later, he’s crying, quietly, covering his face with a hand, as Harry stares, dumbfounded.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kim manages to choke out. “Don’t worry. I’m just really… I’m just really happy... right now.”

Harry continues to stare. “The only other time I’ve seen you cry was when I was dying.” He blushes a little bit and starts fumbling through his jacket. “Back then, I never thought I’d ever make you cry for a reason that wasn’t horrible.” He pulls something from his pocket and presses it into Kim’s hand.

It’s a handkerchief. More specifically, Kim’s handkerchief. That he gave Harry on the day they met, here in Martinaise, a million years ago.

Rot. Vomit. Alcohol. The dysfunctional amnesiac Kim was confronted with that day is now a changed man.

“I’ve kept it this whole time,” Harry says, looking away. “After *the case,* before I knew if you were going to transfer to 41 or not and I didn’t know if I would ever see you again I kept it because it reminded me of you, and then you transferred and we started living together but I still kept it at first because I was scared. That you’d leave me like everyone else. And if… If I did *it* again, I wanted a way to remember you.”

“*It* won’t happen again.” I won’t let you, Kim starts to say, but Harry just smiles. 

“I know,” he says. “I’ve been ready to give it back for a long time now. I just never had the right moment.”

In the background, Egghead shouts something incomprehensible. The pulsing beat screeches to a halt, and a different track begins to play. A slow song. A woman’s voice echoes through the church. Want to be free… 

Harry Du Bois, who makes Kim happier than anyone in this transient world, is swaying to the beat ever so slightly.

Kim wipes his tears away and tucks the handkerchief into his pocket.

“Thank you, Harry. Now, would you care to dance?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is based on a bunch of me and sharkinfishnets' headcanons for a harry/kim wedding (eg. Garte officiating, Egghead DJing, the wedding is in the dance-club-church, etc)


	4. Unhealed Scar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened to Kim Kitsuragi's last partner?

Harry Du Bois would trust Kim Kitsuragi with his life, and more. Even with his very soul. He hopes Kim feels the same way towards him.

This is what he thinks about as he slowly traces the gunshot scar on Kim’s left shoulder.

“Hey, Kim. Where’d this come from?”

For a solid minute, there’s just silence. Harry lies perfectly still, afraid he’s struck a nerve. It can be hard to tell sometimes, but right now, Harry gets the distinct sense that Kim Doesn’t Want To Talk About It. It turns the minute into a terrifying eternity. He’s about to give a hasty apology, beg forgiveness for his misdeeds, when the response comes.

“...Do you remember when I told you about my last partner?”

Harry nods.

“His name was Dominic, but everyone called him ‘Eyes.’ Because he had to see for me.”

Harry remembers. He remembers the chilling wind on the coast, the burgeoning stress of The Case, but more than anything, he remembers the look of deep hurt on Kim’s face.

When he looks up, he sees the same look there; the look of a pain that hasn’t yet healed. 

Harry knows that sort of pain all too well.

“We were…” Kim seems hesitant to start. “We were sent to deal with a drug operation in a warehouse near Coal City. It should’ve been easy. We were so sure it was just another band of teenage delinquents trying to stir up trouble…”

_How could we have been so stupid_ , he’s thinking. Harry knows this feeling too.

“But it wasn’t?”

Kim shakes his head. “It was much bigger than that—a local gang, maybe even a regional one. They must have been controlling all of our sources. We were being watched before we even entered the building.” He pauses for a moment.

Harry isn’t sure, but he swears he can hear Kim’s voice quiver.

“They were ready for us. Three gunmen waiting in the shadows. Far enough away to affect their aim, but also far enough away that I didn’t see them. I was leading the way, so they shot me first.” He suddenly takes his glasses off and starts vigorously cleaning them with a corner of the bedsheet. It’s something else to focus on.

“It wasn’t a lethal shot, but Dom told me to get back to the MC and call for backup. Said he would cover me, and then follow me out. I made it to the MC, but…” The sentence trails into oblivion.

“He didn’t make it out.”

“No. No, he didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Kim.”

Kim sets his glasses aside and buries his face in his hands. “He had a *family*, Harry. A wife. Two kids. I had to be the one to tell them.”

An image flashes in Harry’s mind. The working-class woman, Billie Mejean, the moment he told her that her husband was dead. Harry can see the expression on her face in perfect detail. Even though he doesn’t remember, he *knows* he’s seen it on other faces. Children, siblings, parents, spouses… a shiver runs down his spine.

_A slightly younger Kim standing in front of a sobbing woman. Cracks running through his Composure, cracks that begin at the wound in his shoulder._

Not much is worse than having to tell someone their loved one is never coming home again.

And then, another thought.

Harry’s mind speeds into action, Logic pulling the pieces together.

_Kim’s insecurity about his vision. How Eyes died. Kim letting you take the lead with Billie._

_Kim crying over your body as you bleed out in front of the Whirling._

_He blames himself._

“Kim,” Harry says, trying to make his voice sound as comforting as possible. “Kim, it wasn’t your fault.”

_That your partner died. That I got shot at the tribunal._

“Isn’t it, though?” Kim snaps back. There’s an uncharacteristic sharpness to his voice that makes Harry cringe. “I should have let him take the lead. He would have seen them. But I was too *proud,* too tired of being ‘the blind cop.’ And because of that, my partner died.”

He’s shaking, just a little bit.

Harry sits up. Puts his arms around Kim, steadying him. Pulls together every shred of Empathy, every last bit of Esprit de Corps that he can.

“It wasn’t your fault. You *couldn’t* have known what would happen.”

Kim is silent.

“I know what it’s like to blame yourself. It feels better to think that you could have done *something.* But in the end, the only way forward is to accept that it happened the way it happened, fuck-ups and all, and it can’t be redone.”

_And he shouldn’t be insecure about his vision. Those glasses make him look SMOKING HOT. Tell him that._

“And if it counts for anything, your glasses make you look *super hot.*”

Kim starts shaking again, but this time with suppressed laughter.

“I’m not sure how that’s relevant, Harry.”

Harry blushes.

_You *really* have to stop saying everything you think._

“You’re right, though. For months afterwards, I went over my notes, trying to find the path of action that would have ended with us both alive. I filled a whole notebook with possibilities… Sometimes I still look at it.”  
He says this quietly, as if he’s admitting to some kind of vice.

_Kim thinks outside of his head. He has to start by getting rid of those notes, or he’ll never be able to let it go._

_It should be poetic._

“Maybe you could… have a funeral for the notebook. Leave it at Eyes’ grave, or, or… burn it in a ritual fire, or…”

Even though he can’t see his face, Harry knows Kim is frowning. “I’m not sure how I feel about a ‘ritual fire.’ But his grave… I haven’t been there in a long time. Maybe I should make a visit.”

“*We* should make a visit. We could bring flowers!”

Kim nods. 

“Flowers would be nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a clear idea when I started but then kinda spiraled a bit?? idk


End file.
